Advancing towards hope, and fuel
by Zaravan
Summary: "He was pretty sure this wasn't Rails and Metal..." When en route toward the next Annihilate match, something seems to go wrong, and our stubborn, defensive minded Commander must lead the Panzer Elite through fights in which they will be greatly outmatched. Utilizes content from the Europe at War mod.
1. Advancing towards victory, and fuel

He was pretty sure this wasn't Rails and Metal. Strike that, he WAS sure! For one, the sky was looking rather hellish, a stark contrast from the, admittedly serene looking, green covered, gently rolling hills. The second point was that he was pretty sure there was no Headquarters around.

That wasn't good, no headquarters meant no more Panzergrenadiers, even worse, no upgrades! The third was that he was part of a command squad. They seemed just as confused as he did. Altogether, there were four of them. There was a panzergrenadier hefting the standard karbiner 98k, An accurate, hard hitting bolt action rifle. And two more men wielding the dreaded Gwehr 43 rifles. Powerful, accurate, and rapid-firing, several squads armed with them could pin enemy infantry just as well as a machinegun, with twice the accuracy. One of the two was bearing the weight of a radio. And finally, there was the surprisingly young man clad in a dark grey greatcoat and the matching officer's cap. With an Iron Cross clasped round his neck, his grip tightened 'round an Mp40, a reliable submachine gun designed for mass production. He was 'The Commander' who was backed by the immeasurable might of Kampfgruppe Lehr.

Now, he wasn't anywhere near perfect. Yes he wasn't the best at micromanaging, yes he sometimes forgot to utilize abilities at an opportune time, _yes_ _he_ _sometimes was ridiculously stingy when it came to fuel and munitions._ But if there was one thing he was good at, it was hunkering down for a fight. Give him enough time and resources and he'd establish a defensive position that would make the Maginot Line look like a speedbump. Right now though, he knew none of this would help him. He didn't know where he was. Which was a first. As it stood, his minimap (accessed by simply concentrating on the thought of such, though witnessing troops would think he'd gained the thousand-yard stare, to their worry.) only display a very small area, that which was revealed, anyways. Whatever was covered by sight was just beyond his own squad's sight range.

For the first time, he stopped looking, and started _listening._ It was gunfire, a lot of it too! He heard not the deep booming of tank cannons, nor the terrifying whistling of incoming artillery. Simply lots and lots of small arms, he wondered for a moment and decided to move toward the ruckus, the command squad automatically falling in behind him. As he moved toward the chaotic racket, he worried, was this one of _those_ types of missions? If he lost this squad, including himself, would it be all over? He hated those kinds of missions. He wasn't afraid of dying or losing. He'd done more than his fair share of both. But damned if he _really_ didn't hate it.

Kamfgruppe Lehr advanced, toward barely discernible gleaming buildings, tarnished by smoke and flame, and the roar of automatic weaponry.


	2. Advancing towards experience, and fuel

John Sheppard (later to be named Commander), was not having a very good day. Oh it had started out well enough, being a part of the Normandy's shakedown run. And, while most people chaffed at the idea of a Council Spectre breathing down the back of the crew's collective necks, John at least understood the Council's worries. The Normandy was the first (And, dare he say, the finest) ship of it's class, and it _was_ after all, a joint effort between the Alliance and the Turians.

Now though, his day had quite soured. Sure the distress call they responded to was worrying, but, he was more than willing to help out the colonists, lord knows they needed it. Being a colonist was dangerous. And the alliance couldn't be everywhere at once. They just didn't have the manpower to protect them all. The day took a turn for the worse when Jenkins was, for lack of a better word, _shredded,_ by those damned drones. It was if his shields never even registered! And, after a short firefight, as the drones went down quickly, they'd seemingly not gone ten feet before they'd assisted a Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams. She was the sole survivor of her entire platoon, and John could see the pain and the rage in her eyes. After a few more firefights, they'd come across a rather gruesome sight, corpses impaled on sleek metal spikes. It was disgusting, but it worried him, the Geth, being machines, didn't seem to be able to grasp the concept of psychological warfare, so why-

Ah, now understood. The spikes retracted, and the bodies slid off, they were an, abominable mix of metal and wires and flesh. Then, they got up and began running towards his small squad screeching for blood.

All thirty of them.

John wasn't one to curse but, "Shit!", he growled as he, Kaiden, and Ashley began firing into the mob.

'This was worrying.' was the Commander's thoughts upon seeing the utter carnage. It seemed these strange metal men were attacking what looked like a small town, or outpost. A few minutes ago, they'd put down several of the metal men, a squad about a size of one of the British infantry sections. They'd took a few hits, but they'd live. Any more damage however, and he'd lose a squad member. The Wehrmacht at least had field kits to heal individual squads. They'd at least gained the first rank of Veterancy with those kills, unusually quickly, but he wouldn't complain. One defensive upgrade later and he was a little more confident. He glanced at his resources, his Fuel and Manpower were slowly trickling in, with nothing to spend it on, however, he was rather peeved at it simply sitting there, figuratively collecting dust. He refocused, there were sounds of a firefight, and close too! Perhaps any surviving militia would come under his command, he'd wouldn't last long without fresh squads, or, if he was lucky, a vehicle.

The Commander did not know what to expect, Abominations of metal and flesh were certainly not one of them. There were three figures attempting to hold off the frenzied mob, they fought well, dropping less than half of the mob before they were halfway to the small squad. He should really help though, if the rest of the mob closed in while still retaining their numbers, the soldiers would be torn to pieces! He ordered the command squad to double time it down side of the small hill they were atop, and the second they were in range, they opened fire on the rear of the screeching things.

The first grazed most of the targets, a penalty of the squad's rapid pace, but few bullets (most from the rapid-fire Mp40) put down at least three of the monsters. They stopped at a reasonable range, but did not bother to find cover, as the monsters seemed to lack ranged weapons. If the three man squad he was supporting was surprised by the sudden help, they didn't let it affect their rate of fire. With their attention suddenly torn two ways, the mob was destroyed fairly quickly.

With the last abomination dead, both squads ceased their fire. And each slowly edged toward each other, the future savior of the galaxy and his team were more cautious, and while slowly advancing, carefully stepped over the remains of the things that attacked them. The Commander and his squad, by contrast, were far more relaxed. They'd saw no reason to ready their weapons, as the abominations were dead, and the Commander doubted that the men they'd assisted would turn on them, I'd make no sense.

The Commander thought the other squad's gear quite strange, their armor was almost shiny, and their weapons seemed rather oddly shapes. The pink and white one was the worst, In his opinion, it stood out so much! It seemed almost begging for a sniper's bullet.

John wasn't one to squander good fortune, he was sure those abominations would have torn him and his squad to pieces if they got close, yet they never had the chance. As came these men dressed in archaic clothing, their gear of a dull grey metal, and their weapons of steel and wood. He smelled a rather uncommon scent, gunpowder! Why were these men using gunpowder weapons? The individual cartridges, even spent, would fetch a fortune these days on various markets! The one in the lead seemed to be in charge, it was the way he carried himself that told John. Well, that and the fancy hat. The medal clasped around his neck helped too.

They were only a few feet away from each other now, their rescuers stopped. John and his squad did the same. The squad leader stepped forward (He was so young! Barely out of his teen years, if he guessed right!) and did the last thing John Shepard expected. He smiled, held out his hand, and introduced himself.

"Commander Zaravan, Kampfgruppe Lehr, I'm glad to have saved your asses from the fire! Where's the nearest Headquarters?"


	3. Advancing towards replacements, and fuel

John was quite confused by this turn of events, he hadn't simply expected a squad of Germans toting bullet-fed weaponry, the more he thought about it, the more it made sense, (And the more it didn't.) He'd always's loved reading history books when he was small, there wasn't much to do elsewise, living on a ship and all. And he'd always done rather well during his tutoring. He recalled most vividly the strange men's helmets, ' _stalhelms, they called them.' ,_ John thought. Another point was the mere presence of gunpowder firearms, they themselves were rare, but rarer still was live ammunition for them. John decided it would be rude not to answer, (After all, the men had possibly saved their very lives.) So, he took a step forward, and clasped his hand firmly around the young 'commander's'. And gave it a nice firm shake, and so, John Sheppard, always the inquisitive one, answered with a question, "Thank's for the help, Er, (He momentarily stumbled over the name, what kind of name was 'Zaravan' anyway?) Zaravan, I'm glad we're not the only ones left fighting. But what are you doing here anyway?" John raised a questioning eyebrow, "And those weapons of yours aren't exactly common, either. Just where did you get those?"

Commander Zaravan, of Kampfgruppe Lehr was a little confused as well, but in a different way, he wondered why these men hadn't come under his command, was it because he hadn't killed all of the nearby enemies? No, the abominations were all dead, he was sure of that. The only reasonable explanation would be that they were functioning as an allies' units, and not his own. It made sense, and he wouldn't complain about having a bit more firepower directed toward the enemy, but he was a little disappointed, and worried, he couldn't keep going if he didn't have a way of replacing casualties.

The comment about the weapons worried the Commander as well, why wouldn't they be common? Sure the G43's weren't as available as he would have liked, but the Kar98k's and Mp40's were practically a dime a hundred! Even Soviet partisans could be seen wielding them. At least he never worried about ammo, all he (and his men, by extension.) had to do was reach into a pocket and draw out the next stripper clip, or magazine. They never really cared, anyways. And so, the leader of Kampfgruppe Lehr responded, his voice devoid of worry or hesitancy (and not to little honesty.)with; "We just happened to show up." He said, shrugging. "And we've just always use these weapons, they're standard issue."

Ashley Williams, granddaughter of the Disgraced General Williams, was never really the most patient when it came to extended conversations, now, with her entire unit dead, the men and women she'd known for so long, cut down like wheat to the scythe, all she could do standing here was reflect on what really felt like failure. She hated it. She didn't want to stand here, listening to that fresh-faced young man babbling away, ' _With that damned insufferable smile'_ She had to do something, anything that wasn't just standing there while Eden burned! She spoke up. "Sir." She said, interrupting their conversation _that just seemed to go on and on and ON!_ She kept her voice level, and respectful. "We really should get moving to the beacon." Kaiden also decided to pitch in his two credits. "I agree sir, we should hurry, before the geth make off with that thing."

John, while chafed at the interruption, could see the merit in Ashley's argument. He decided that questions could come later, when Eden _wasn't_ burning. So, he turned to the young 'commander', and asked, "They're right, we should get moving, we could use the extra manpower, if you want to come along?" He left the question open, for them to decide.

The Commander agreed quite easily, after all, he reasoned, they'd probably know where to go anyways. So, they'd all advanced up a dirt road, leading to the top of a small hill, with, admittedly strange, metal buildings, they were spartan in design, bare and practical. There were more of those gruesome spikes surrounding them, but, as they activated, they were only a few of the monsters rushing towards them, a trickle compared to the wave of the things they'd taken down before.

They hadn't lasted very long.

So, with the immediate area cleared, the squad leader had asked him to wait outside while he and his men searched what seemed to be a small house. The Commander agreed, as his attention was elsewhere at that moment. He'd realized he'd forgotten to pick a Doctrine! He only thought for a moment before choosing, as the one he picked had access to off-map infantry, The Luftwaffe Doctrine. What was strange was that once he look through the tree, he'd saw that the Luftwaffe Ground Forces infantry squad was already unlocked, so, while 'John' as he'd introduced himself, and his squad searched for survivors, he'd activated the ability, and clicked on the small patch of ground in front of him. What he did not expect, was a green flare to appear, followed by the passing droning of a plane's engine. As the five man luftwaffe squad landed, he was momentarily puzzled, as usually, the squad arrived from the edge of the map, on foot! But, at least it wouldn't take a while for the squad to arrive. He was rather happy that his command extended to another squad as it doubled his firepower, and his survivability. So, with both squads under his command, he'd waited for John to come back, passing the time by having the squads moving from various types of cover, by the time John came back, the ability had cooled down so that he'd been able to order a second squad.

John Sheppard, having finished talking to two surviving scientists, as well as calming one of them, who was a little unstable. Walked outside to see that an additional ten men had seemingly popped out of nowhere. He didn't expect that.


	4. Advancing to dead spectres, and fuel

John was still confused, the fact that the fresh arrivals had apparently paradroped in did not help, neither did the fact that there was no sign of any planes capable of such. The 'Commander' Explained that they were under his command, and that they would move in front of them. John relented, simply wanting to extract the damn beacon, get out, and have a nice nap. Alas, about two minutes later, those hopes were dashed, as it seemed someone else got there before they did.

He wasn't happy about that.

The Geth who chose to suddenly arrive did wonders to sour his mood even further, and so John decided to take his frustrations out on them.

Kaiden Alenko was proud to serve under John Sheppard, sure, Jenkins' death was a real downer (he still felt the bitter guilt at losing the eager young marine.) but the addition of Ashley and these rather eccentric men wielding bolt-action rifles of wood and tarnished steel lifted his hopes of completing the mission. As soon as the firefight broke out, they all threw themselves into cover, he counted at least twenty(!) Geth from behind his conveniently placed chest-high wall. His squad, as well as the mysterious 'commander's', were slowly whittling them down. The other 'paratroops' were contributing their fire, but frankly, they were terrible. Of the two squads, he could see only one had an automatic weapon, (used by what looked like the squad leader, judging by the constant yelling and hand motions.) and they were fired only in short bursts. The rest of the squad armed with only bolt action rifles. Nonetheless, the sheer volume of fire from the 'paratroops' and the more accurate fire from his squad and the 'commander's', and soon, the walking machines were no more. Once everything had calmed down, he could see that the 'paratroops' had lost about three men in total, he frowned. He could see their bodies laying there, unmoving, blood slowly pooling around them. The rest of the men didn't seem to care, or worse, were simply too jaded to do so. He could hear Sheppard offering his condolences at 'Commander' Zaravan's losses.

"I'm sorry for the loss of your men, Commander." John had said. The Commander nodded halfheartedly, his mind was occupied elsewhere. He simply activated the small reinforcement icon in each unit's portrait. Shortly after, he heard the distant rumbling of the plane's engine (to the apparent confusion of the armor-clad men, who craned their necks to attempt to spot it, but failed to do so.) and three fresh Luftwaffe Ground troops landed and shed their harnesses. They advanced forward, the Commander conversing with John, who he was beginning to take a liking to, about himself.

"So." John said."Let me get this straight. The more territory you capture, the more resources you gain?" "Indeed, John, but there are different types of resources that are needed in order t-" A gunshot reverberates in the air, and, as John notes, a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach, it came from the direction of the spaceport. "Nihlus." He says, his voice betraying his concern. He orders Kaiden and Ashley to doubletime it towards the spaceport.

One skirmish and three dead Luftwaffe troops later, they'd secured the spaceport. And in the process, discovered the body of the spectre, Nihlus.

This really wasn't John's day.

While John was, for lack of a better word, interrogating a local who had witnessed this apparently important agent's death, The Commander was looking at his command tree, the various kills he'd gotten on these 'Geth' had given him a total of two command points, as well as advancing the Command Squad up a veterancy level. he'd decided to activate the skdfz. upgrade, giving him access to a halftrack armed with a 20mm cannon, it'd tear apart infantry and light vehicles, and was cheap too! The downside was that it'd explode if someone so much as breathed on the damn thing. And there was no way he could deploy it either. Though he doubted he wouldn't be able to find a way to set up a base. He'd have to make do for now with the Luftwaffe troops. However laughable their shooting was.

And so, several firefights (and at least eight dead Luftwaffe troops total, four courtesy of a grenade.) and a bit of reinforcing later, they'd commandeered what seemed to be an open cargo train. It was big enough that the seventeen soldiers could ride on. The Commander noticed that John wasn't in the best of moods. When prodded for an answer, he revealed that the death of such a revered spectre would certainly look awful in front of the council. "Well, friend." Zaravan had responded, smiling. "I guess that we'll have to catch the bastard and give him what for, won't we?"

John perked up at the thought of bringing 'Saren', as the dockworker had told him, to justice.

He activated the train, which responded by lurching forward, before rapidly picking up speed.


	5. Advancing towards nightmares, and fuel

John had to admit, he'd had his bad days. There was the time when he was on elysium, he hadn't expected slavers to raze the place to the ground, but at least he'd been able to rally what was left of the garrison to hold until help had arrived. He'd been made a hero too! To be someone for whom others looked up to!

Today? Today really was the worst day of his life, first Eden Prime is under attack. Nothing he couldn't handle. Then Nihlus died. The Council would have their asses for that, but at least he might have the chance to get the bastard who did it!

Now? Now there was the fact that in about five minutes, the entire colony would be a huge, irradiated, crater.

And so, here he was, John Sheppard, running frantically from cover to cover, disabling each of the four (By god, four!) nukes that were planted here in another part of Eden Prime's spaceport. His heart pumping by the time he'd had the third down. Kaiden and Ashley were close to him, covering him from the Geth's withering fire while he disabled the damned bombs. Out of the corner of his eye, he'd spotted the Commander's men helping supress the Geth and keeping them from flanking his own squad. John had to admit, their mere presence was making things far easier than they would be, Even if those 'Luftwaffe troops' couldn't shoot worth shit. He'd almost had the third one down and- There! He'd disabled the third bomb and he and his squad quickly but cautiously, moved toward the final bomb. Once they'd gunned down the last Geth, he'd immediately began working on it. The rushing of many boots, and the increasing volume of the Luftwaffe men's loud rifle volleys, had clued him in that they were advancing to support his team.

Ashley had to admit, having reinforcements was a blessing. Even if their weapons _were_ hilariously outdated. And those 'Luftwaffe' guys couldn't shoot worth shit, it was nice. The fact that the Geth were trying to scorch Eden Prime's only colony into dust really pissed her off, but the fact that they'd managed to save a lot of time due to these weird guys helping cut them down gave them a lot of merit, to her at least.

*CRAKK* The sharp report of sniper rifle ripped through the air, and Ashley instinctively ducked behind the metal support beam she was behind. She wondered who that bullet was meant for, when she saw one of the 'Luftwaffe' guys face down, with a hole in the back of his head. She shuddered, their friends had taken a lot of casualties, but they didn't seem to notice, only stopping their fire once either the enemy was dead, or they were. She had to admire that.

They still couldn't shoot for shit though.

The Commander was a little incensed, oh no, not at the fact that he was taking a ridiculous amount of casualties, they'd all died at one point. and they'd just jump into combat once again when the squad was reinforced. No, the fact was that these machine men thought it was nice to slaughter civilians and try to turn this 'colony' into nothing more than a big crater. He didn't appreciate that. And so he pushed his troops to the limit, advancing no matter the casualties, he'd called in a third Luftwaffe Troop by this point. And, he had to admit, he'd needed them. Between the rapid advance through the 'spaceport' and the withering fire from those damned metal men, he'd taken more than a dozen casualties in the last three minutes! Those damned assault rifles that every one of them seemed to carry! The rapid fire was tearing the Luftwaffe Troops apart, and those damned snipers. Zaravan really, really, _**really hated snipers.**_ They could simply sit on their ass and pick off his infantry at their leisure. And the 'Geth's' Snipers were wreaking havoc on his troops, though they could only fire off a few shots before every rifle in the vicinity pointed towards them, the sheer volume of fire taking them out.

It wasn't long before John had deactivated the last bomb, soon after, they'd all cleaned up what was left of the 'Geth' and John's squad rallied around him. He liked John, he was a natural leader, directing those under command with an efficiency that came only to those who seemed born for the role. He would know, he was a commander after all! And so, they'd come towards what seemed to be whatever John and his men were here for. It looked rather strange, like one of those Egyptian obelisks he remembered seeing during the North African campaign. He'd ordered the Luftwaffe troops (They'd taken a total of about twenty casualties.) around the area in a perimeter, behind various pieces of cover. He was still looking around for any sign of danger when he heard a shout, and an odd light behind him.

John knew he had to get Ashley away from that strange thing, and while he did, he'd ended up in her position. And then all was _pa_ _ **in and fear and HATE AND FLESH AND METAL BREAKING BONES-**_

 **It all hurt.**

And his last concious thought, before he slipped into the sweet embrace of sleep was;

' _This really is the worst day ever.'_


	6. Advancing toward consciousness, and fuel

The first thing John Sheppard, the hero of Elysium did upon waking, was let out a high-pitched whine of pain. He'd hardly remembered what had happened between him being subjected to what felt torture, and waking up wherever he was. "Ah, Shepard, you're awake! I was worried." Was that- was that Dr. Chakwas? Then that must mean he was in the Normandy's medbay. He let out a groan that sounded vaguely like a question, to which the ship's good doctor replied; "Stay _down_ John." When she used that tone, there was no arguments. "Whatever that Beacon did to you, it wasn't good, your brain waves were rather erratic while you were asleep." By this point he'd finally decided to crack open a single eye. He'd definitely remembered the nightmares.

David Anderson was, by all accounts, a patient, even-tempered man. Even if he was getting up there in the years, he still felt spry as ever. His temper however, was a different story. First, Eden Prime was attacked by a completely unexpected entity, The Geth of all things! Then, Nihlus AND Jenkins died, and unless they could scrounge up evidence as to who killed Nihlus and why, the Council would have their asses on a silver platter! And _now_ he'd had his trusted, dependable XO in a _goddamn_ _ **COMA!**_ He was practically a father to that boy, given he'd never really had one during his childhood. He'd thought that being on the same ship would have eased his own worries, and now it's backfired in the worst _**goddamn way possible!**_ At least he could take consolation in the fact that John had apparently been able to rally command of what seemed to be an almost twenty-strong force of militiamen, the fact that they seemed to be armed with what mostly looked like bolt action rifles made him wonder, and their supposed 'commander' was younger that John was. How in god's name did a man that young gain command of what seemed to be what was left of a militia platoon? And now, here he was. Typing up the report that would go to the Council, and Alliance Command. And he really didn't look forward to typing up that letter of condolences to Jenkins' family. The intercom buzzed, he halted his rapid typing and looked up.

"Yes?" The intercom answered in Doctor Chakwas' voice shortly after. "Captain Anderson, sir? I'd wanted to let you know that Sheppard is awake and requested to see you sir."

He was out the door to his cabin before she'd even finished.

To Ashley, this day just felt like one goddamn guilt trip after the other. First she'd lost here entire goddamn unit! If that wasn't enough, Sheppard had saved her from being pulled in by that damned Beacon, and got knocked into next year for it. And now here she was, pacing in the Normandy's cargo bay, waiting for any news at all. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see several of those Luftwaffe guys simply lounging around, they'd never let go of their weapons at any point, even when they'd double timed it back to the Normandy, the rapid pace they'd kept were never slowed by their equipment. She could see the Commander, Zaravan was his name, talking with Kaiden whilst sitting on a few cargo crates. She kept pacing.

The Commander was rather worried, he'd figured out at this point that people here didn't get back up. The fact that John apparently hadn't woken up in the few hours since he and his men had gotten on this ship made him worry even more. He liked John, he thought he was a good friend, he was a natural commander too. He'd voiced his worries to Kaiden, who seemed confident in John's apparent natural toughness, and relayed to him and his Command Squad about how he became the Hero of Elysium. "So he really held off an entire fleet of slavers alone?" Kaiden laughed. "Well, he wasn't totally alone, he'd managed to rally what was left of the colony's Garrison, as well as a few local militia to defend a bunker that a lot of the civilians had taken shelter in. He knew they were all that stood between them and the slavers. They fought like it too! By the time Alliance reinforcements showed up, they'd beaten off the last wave of attackers. They'd played that up for weeks! He's practically the Alliance's poster boy, and he got a shiny medal out of the whole thing,too."

With that tale, the Commander's opinion of John Sheppard increased tenfold.

John, in the few minutes since he'd woken up, had found the strength to complete the monumental task of sitting upright. And, while Chakwas was looking over a few charts, he'd taken the liberty of looking around the small medbay. It wasn't long before he'd spotted a few figures to the left of his bed. It was two of the Luftwaffe Troops, he saw one of them on another bed, a blood-soaked bandage covering his left eye. He could see the man's chest moving up and down, he looked to be sleeping. The other one was covered by a sheet, laid out on a stretcher perpendicular to the beds, he could only tell because he could recognize the shined boots they wore. He saw a large splotch of dried blood soiling the white sheet, he was sickened upon realizing that there make out a rather large indenture in the middle of the cadaver's chest, as if it had been caved in. He frowned and tore his gaze away, looking forward. By the time he'd been able to banish the thoughts of the dead man, who but Captain Anderson walked into the medbay, his face etched with worry. He was glad to see him, but he could tell that he was worried as John was about how much of a cluster this whole situation was. So, he'd straightened his back, and prepared for what might be a rather tense debriefing.

He still felt rather tired. But he refused to let it show.


End file.
